My Chance
by who're19
Summary: I never wanted the extraordinary, just something better than whatever this was. I wanted to live and breathe with the monarchs, dance with flappers, rock with bands and live my life. Away from any setbacks. If this is my chance, I'm going to take it. ExB OOC AU.
1. A is for Anxiety

**AN: Here goes nothing. SM owns twilight, I'm just borrowing her characters for a little bit, My Chance is all mine though.**

I had been called many things in my 13 years. Smart, quiet, shy, innocent, but never once had I been referred to as extraordinary.

I am the epitome of common. A child of divorce, a solid A/B student, average height with little about myself that screamed supermodel beauty. But I was okay with it.

I much preferred to sit on the edges of the gym at a school dance, to watch silently, simply observing. I was never one to get into the trends that seemed to be getting stranger and stupider. I often felt that maybe I belonged in a different time, but seeing as that was impossible I figured my easiest escape was through classic pieces of literature.

Through the words of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and the like, I discovered a world of chivalry, a world of ordinary girls with extraordinary loves.

Reaching over class lines, looking through faults and not just accepting imperfections but embracing them. I fell in love. The worlds painted by these romanticism authors were places I simply dreamed. Realizing that I would never know them.

By 13 knew three things for certain.

1) I had anxiety. My anxiety had a habit of overpowering my thoughts at the time and though my mother and I had tried everything, nothing truly helped.

2) My mother would never be able to stick with one hobby, from knitting to scuba diving (which was great for the scenery but horrible for Renee's lily white skin) to her current hobby of holistic medicine, it would never truly be something that we both enjoyed.

 _Not as long as I was focusing on the current predicament as well as trying to make sure the bills were paid on time…_

3) The kind of love I wanted, was one I had a slim chance of ever experiencing.

It was a Thursday night in the beginning of June when Renee had her current boyfriend, Steven, over for dinner.

I'd been sitting at the kitchen table filling out forms in preparation for my transition into high school the following year. I could feel her anxiety beginning to creep up at the uncertainty of fitting in and the new (much larger) school. There was a tightening in my gut as well as a rush of thoughts.

 _What if I don't have friends? What if I manage to make friends and the ones that I find are great and then they realize I'm broken and they leave? What if I get made fun of?_ These kinds of thoughts haunted me.

Not to forget that I would have to know how to get around a new campus.

One with huge hallways. Packed with people. One with three flights of stairs.

Three

Flights

Of

Stairs.

Those three flights would not only provide ample opportunity to fall and tumble to the floors below (something I had decided, depending on my level of embarrassment/how overwhelmed I felt, might not be a bad thing.)

Involuntarily, my eyes began to dart around the room. I could feel my chest constricting. My hand involuntarily clenched into a fist, the pen I was holding now being held hostage in a tight grip with no hope for escape.

I knew what was happening. I didn't necessarily understand my anxiety but I knew the signs of a panic attack and knew what I had to do to get myself to calm down. Now if I could just get my heart to settle down, I would be okay. Renee and Steven entered the kitchen in time for me to start trying to get my breathing under control, _perfect._

Feeling that I had little choice, I raised my arms up and clasped my hands behind my head. This was the only way I could feel myself truly be able to take a breath.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. And then another. And another. In my mind I was listing things I knew for certain that I could feel.

The floor beneath my sock clad feet,

My hair and the messy ponytail it was in.

My favorite shirt, a distressed and vintage Rolling Stones tee, that once belonged to Charlie, my dad, resting on my shoulders.

Suddenly, I could also feel my mother rubbing soothing circles on my back in an attempt to calm me down.

I was almost there. I knew I needed to continue the grounding exercise I had been doing. Not taking any time in between the feeling and the realization that I could once again breathe I continued.

Now going through the things I could see, hear, taste and smell.

I turned to my mother who was seated next to me with a look of vivid worry evident in her hazel eyes. But there was something else. Something that resembled the look Renee got when we were at the grocery store and she couldn't decide between Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia or Rocky Road. Indecision? I couldn't tell what I was seeing? Glancing at Steven who stood nearer the entrance to the kitchen I think I saw concern again but his look was almost overpowered by one of childlike curiosity. A look I could only compare to when my little cousin got his new magnifying glass out after finding a new ant pile. Almost malicious but not quite. That being said, my little cousins were freaks. Both mom and I had conveniently come down with strep throat, bronchitis and something they were almost positive resembled swine flu whenever Renee's family called about a get-together or reunion. Much easier to stay home than hanging around the crazies that came from the Higginbotham family tree.

"Honey, are you alright? Was it a bad one? Do you need anything?" mom asked

"Mom, I'm okay now, I promise. I was just slightly overwhelmed for a second. I got it under control. I'm kind of a pro now." I sighed. Turning to Steven i made an effort to mutter an embarrassed apology.

While my anxiety isn't necessarily a weakness, I knew it was a disorder, and given the chance I would get rid of it in a heartbeat. But more than anything I knew that I was a functioning and capable girl(at least most of the time), and I didn't need or want anyone's pity.

One last hesitance filled glance at me and Renee moved back to Steven and they stepped back into the living room, speaking in hushed tones. I straightened my forms, careful not to think about my future too much, and quickly put them back inside their manilla folder. I quickly moved the folder back into my backpack just as the doorbell rang.

Pulling plates and napkins from the kitchen I moved back into the dining room in time to see Steven setting 2 boxes of pizza on the table.

Steven was an alright guy. He was one of Renee's boyfriends and had been around for awhile so I knew him well. He was around Renee's age, slightly older with a look of intelligence about him. His rimless glasses and dark eyes made him look both harmless and dangerous in the same instant. I attributed it to the lack of warmth behind his muddy irises. Renee attributed to his "complete and total bad boy sexy factor that she just COULD NOT get enough of." I gagged just thinking about Renee's wine induced ramblings de la Steven.

He worked in the pharmaceutical industry. I didn't know his job title, but I knew there were tons of words in it and they all roughly translated into layman's terms meant research and development of medicine. Steven had been trying to convince Renee to enroll me into an anxiety study basically since he came over and witnessed one of my I was ambivalent, and to be honest probably leaning towards trying it out, Renee was against it every time. The risks always too high. Her baby was strong. She knew how to talk herself down and did it every time. She didn't need a study.

But as time went on Steven wore on my mom. He had been on a team that had been trying to put together a new drug that was specifically meant to help sufferers of anxiety and curb off attacks. Renee still said no but with less fire. She'd watched me miss out on things like a date to the girls choice dance, sports (though Renee could also attribute that to my inability to walk across a flat surface without falling and bruising, spraining, or breaking something.) and other things that involved anything that may trigger an attack. I was strong, yes, but, much to everyone's chagrin I was also stubborn, independent, and fearful whether I cared to admit it or not.

I would never place myself in a situation where I would have to do something that might cause an attack, especially around people I didn't know well. Therefore I sought solace in the back corner of the art room at school, the library with a book or in my home.

Renee, Steven, and I sat down and ate our pizza laughing and conversing about anything and everything.

One thing I liked about Steven was his ability to completely move on. He never questioned my attack, at least not to my face and could now move on to discussing random things like the new musical coming to the Herberger Theatre Center or baseball and my blind loyalty to the Seattle Mariners. My own silent connection to my father, in an attempt to make sure our weekly phone calls weren't filled with mundane information or silence, I made sure that I was always up to date with the latest on my father's favorite, and _COMPLETELY_ coincidentally my favorite, baseball team.

I went to bed that night feeling comfortable in my life. Nothing extraordinary, but I was content with being content. Comfortable was good as far as I am concerned.

When I got up the next morning for school I dressed in my usual t-shirt, jeans, and dirty converse, and left without knowing that my last day of 8th grade would be one of the hardest I had ever faced.

 **AN: I am reposting this because I tried to write it one way and tbh it didn't work well for me. Either way I swear it's going to get good interesting. I am writing a book and I know you're supposed to write write WRITE in order to build skill and such so this is me doing that. I would request you go easy on me except I'd prefer you say what you want to say. I can take it. Thanks. Y'all are the best.**

 **Stay gold,**

 **Who're**

 **P.S. Grounding is an actual exercise to help with anxiety attacks! Take note of the place you're in if you feel one coming on.**

 **5 things you can see,**

 **4 things you can feel,**

 **3 things you can hear,**

 **2 things you can smell,**

 **and 1 thing you can taste.**

 **I'm not a doctor but this has worked for me in the past!**


	2. This isn't Going to be Pretty

**AN: SM owns Twilight. I'm just playing with her characters.**

Eighth grade is a fun time for no one involved, not the teachers, not the students, no one. In fact, as far as I was concerned the only good thing about eighth grade was the end of it. Literally, everyone had begun…developing; the girls were beginning to look like women whereas I am fairly certain I had a body reminiscent of a 7-year-old boy. I was still on the short side of the spectrum but Renee reminded me every day that my growth spurt was just around the corner. I didn't believe her but the reminders continued.

Throwing my dark hair into a lopsided ponytail, I hoisted my backpack higher onto my shoulders. I was probably somewhat resembling the hunchback of Notre Dame now. My light blue wire frame glasses slid down my nose causing me to look like a librarian. The hunchback librarian of Carter Junior High was quite the oddball.

But eighth grade was nearly over. Renee had promised me contacts before high school started and my braces would be off by the end of the month. I just knew I would be a whole different person by the time the new school year rolled around.

At the end of the school year, in celebration of surviving middle school, Carter Junior High held an eighth-grade dance. The celebration was a dance in the loosest sense of the word; many students steered clear of the dance floor and congregated around the punch bowl and snack tables. The students who danced, though, were the students who had dates, and everyone wanted a date, myself included. But I also knew that a date probably wasn't in the cards for me. On that note, I had decided that the dance was stupid; I had no desire to put on a dress and get made up just to stand around in a sweaty gym surrounded by people who were ambivalent towards me (at best) during the week.

But as I trudged down the hallway, a boy clad in Aeropostale jeans and an Abercrombie shirt, the epitome of cool middle schooler, approached me. His name was Jason Walker (cue the girly sigh) and he was the "it" guy at Carter Jr. Every boy wanted to be him, every girl wanted to be with him. He stopped in front of me, but I had been watching my feet instead of where I was going, so I ran right into him.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention, my fault," I stuttered as I moved to go around the boy.

"Bella, wait, I wanted to talk to you," Jason grabbed my arm, keeping me from leaving.

Holy cow Jason Walker is touching me. In my surprise at the real-life physical contact, I was sure I had misheard him.

"Wait what? Are you sure you meant me, Jason?"

"Duh. I was wondering if you're going to the dance."

I felt the blush shoot across my face, taking me from pale to bright red in a matter of seconds. "No, no I wasn't planning on it, why?"

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me?" He shot me a rather confident grin.

Being asked had never even occurred to me, I was rather unprepared for this situation.

"Uh…what?"

Quickly realizing that wasn't an answer to his question I stuttered around my words for a minute, trying to come up with something even mildly intelligent. My thoughts were moving at a mile a minute. Should I go? No, no I didn't want to. But Jason had asked me. Jason was popular. Why had he asked? This was odd.

"Sure, yeah let's go together, that'll be fun. My mom will love that I have to wear a dress and she gets to do my makeup. I'm glad you're not that much taller than me because heels are hard and also I hate them and I don't want to wear them and yeah, that'll work. It'll be fun. Okay, yeah. It's a date." As I rambled on I also failed to notice the kids around us start to snicker. Jason's shoulders shook with withheld laughter and the boy next to him, Jason's trusty sidekick, Blake, was holding his phone with the camera aimed straight at me.

"Um…what's that for?" I said, staring questioningly at Blake's phone.

For some reason that seemed to trigger an explosion of laughter from the other kids around them. It was then that I realized that Jason and I were surrounded by the rest of the popular crowd.

At this point, I knew that my face was so red it had to resemble a cartoon character. Tears began to sting my eyes as Jason tried his hardest to talk through his laughter.

"Oh God, The Ugly Duckling," he laughed even harder after using the nickname the kids at school had given me, "actually thought that I wanted to go with her, can you guys believe it? Oh my God! That was the funniest thing that's ever happened." His laughter got louder. He clutched his stomach at the same time that I reached to clutch my chest.

My throat was closing up, I was beginning to feel like a caged animal. My eyes were darting everywhere looking for an exit. I desperately needed an escape. I was fighting to keep my breathing under control but I was continuously failing.

Panic.

Escape.

Can't let them see.

Not weak.

Oh, God.

Humiliated was an understatement at this point. I turned and began to run, trying to get out. As I pushed people away, frantically trying to escape, My glasses fell off, my backpack weighed me down, and my exit became more and more unachievable. In my rush, I ran directly into Aubrey West, the most popular girl in school, Jason's female counterpart. Aubrey's friend and human shadow, Hannah, actually pointed and snickered as I dropped to the floor in search of my glasses. Aubrey sneered at me as she stepped directly on to what I had to assume by the crunch sound of glass and metal on the linoleum was my glasses. Then, she crouched down low to whisper in my ear.

"Silly duckling, no one will ever give a damn about you."

At that, I lost all control of my breathing. I made it out of the hallway, darting through the nearest door, leading me into the dark music hall. I slid down against the wall, placed my head between my knees and tried to go over the grounding exercises, but to no avail. I sat against the wall trying desperately to inventory my surroundings: the things I knew were absolute truths, the things I could see, physically touch, taste.  
Nothing worked.  
My mind held me hostage, the boa constrictor that was my anxiety continued to wind its way around my chest and tighten. It wasn't letting me breathe. Wasn't letting me think.  
God, I was disgusted. At myself, at my school, at my life, at my lack of boobs, at my mother for always reminding me of my lack of height, at Aubrey for being who she was, and at Jason for being so damn cute and appealing and also the biggest jerk on the planet. My main focus fell past Aubrey's cursing, on to what Aubrey truly meant, that no one would ever care about me.

No one will ever like me.

No one.

Unwanted.

Always alone.

She's probably right.

My breaths were now coming out in short spurts and I was beginning to feel lightheaded.

Just as the door to my left opened, I let my eyes close and gave up on the real world.

"Bella, baby, come on, wake up."

I blinked and looked around, taking in my surroundings; the too bright fluorescents and cot underneath me suggested I was in the nurse's office and mom was there? It took me several moments but after I fought past the fog and remembered what had transpired I let the tears fall and finally began to cry.

Mom held me as I explained what had happened just before my episode. The explanation was filled with snot and tears, but it was an explanation nonetheless. Renee was furious, wanting nothing more than to kick this Jason kid's ass, and maybe that Aubrey character too. As I finished the tale, I wiped my hands across my face, effectively wiping away most of the marks that showed I had cried thus wiping away evidence of weakness. All that was left was a red nose and bright eyes.

"Mom, how did I get here?"

"One of your friends came and found the nurse when she found you passed out in the music hall."

I looked around and through the window in the door that closed the isolated part of the school clinic off from the rest of the school, I saw the unmistakable red hair of Hannah Greene, Aubrey's henchman. My sad eyes gave way to humiliation as they met Hannah's rueful gaze. I knew better than to think this changed anything. I was still the same outcast, Hannah was still the same cool kid. I accepted that this was the closest I would get to being a member of the "in" crowd. A "friend" taking me to the nurse's office after I had such a bad panic attack that I passed out on the floor. I was done.

I knew I would never truly fit in. As much as I claimed to be average, I was a loner, who cut myself off from the rest of the world in an attempt at self-preservation.

Mom and I gathered my things and went to the principal's office. I moved on autopilot. I was done with being this broken little girl. I didn't want to do anything except go home and never come back to this school. I wanted to be normal, I wanted to restart somewhere far away.

After we finished in the principal's office we made the trek to Renee's midnight blue SUV. Mom turned to me, her hazel eyes pinning me in place.

"You okay, Bells?" She whispered.

"I guess I'm fine. I just wish I was normal." I confessed quietly. "I just wish I was normal and that I just didn't have to deal with this anymore." 

**AN: Here's chapter 2. Again, there is background to be built and such but I promise that the story will be interesting (good? hopefully?) Please review! Let me know what y'all think! See y'all in a bit!**

 **Stay Gold,**

 **Who're**


	3. Less than Ideal

_**AN: SM owns all.**_

"Renee, just think about it. This could be really good for her." Steven's voice, while muffled by the wall between the hallway and the living room might as well have been over a loudspeaker.

"Steven, she's just a little girl, she isn't a guinea pig." Renee protested.

All I had ever truly wished for was something that made me likable, something that made me cool. I was tired of being normal, I would have settled for average, but I strived for extraordinary, someone who could have been written about by Jane Austen. A strong girl, a girl who knew who she was and stood for her own beliefs. But I wasn't that girl, I had little to no life experience. All I had was anxiety, but what good did that do me when making friends?

Steven's suggestion intrigued me. Sitting in the hallway, with my knees pulled to her chest, I listened to Renee and Steven discuss an experimental treatment that was being tested at Steven's work. His team had been developing a new anxiety medication that all but eliminated anxiety, attacks included. Apparently, Steven had been trying to get Renee to apply for me to be a part of the study for quite some time now, but Renee was reluctant. I didn't understand why. This could solve all of my problems! I didn't care that it was a test drug. I cared that it had the potential to stop my panic attacks. I cared that it could make me normal. The thought of no more anxiety, of maybe getting to be a normal girl instead of the ugly duckling, was what drew me in immediately.

I heard the front door shut, signaling Steven's departure. I quickly scrambled to my room as quickly and quietly as I could. Just as I adjusted my blankets just right and grabbed my book, pretending to read, my mother came in. Renee, ever the dramatist, sighed heavily, lifted her hand to her forehead, and proceeded to collapse in a heap on to my bed. I giggled at the theatrics of it all.

"Men," Renee uttered with rolling eyes and a playful frown.

"Tell me about it," I sighed.

"You're too young to have boy problems, Bell. That Jason kid is a dick, don't let him get under your skin," Renee said as she turned and propped herself up on her elbows.

I set my book on my nightstand, thinking that everything would be so much easier if I didn't have to deal with this stupid anxiety.

"Mom...don't be mad," I started, "but, um, I kinda heard you talking to Steven just now and I think it might be a good idea." I was staring down at my comforter, which was an ironic place to stare given that I was not at all comfortable in the situation.

"B, I just don't know about this," she leaned in, taking me in her arms. "It's just an option, and there are so many safer things, maybe we could try talking to Dr. Brandon again. She helped you last time...maybe-" Renee rambled.

"Mom," I interrupted, "I've done the exercises and I've tried the meditations. We've gone the holistic route and I really am just done. I'm tired of being the ugly duckling." I finished quietly

Renee looked up at the ceiling, tears filling her hazel eyes, I knew she was thinking about the kids at school and what happened the other day. With a big sigh she said, "Okay, baby, I'll talk to Steven tomorrow."

The next day Renee talked to Steven, and the process to enter into the study was started. I began taking the medication and everything was working as hoped. I had a new energy. I was relaxed, and comfortable in my skin. Mom and I had gone and gotten the contacts and my braces had been off for a week. I was trying new things. I had hope.

Because of my moms ever changing hobbies I managed to find a new passion, I picked up photography. I had taken to wandering the streets around our house in search of inspiration.

Every Wednesdays mom and I would make the drive to Steven's office in downtown Phoenix. Once there, I would sit down and talk through what had changed, how I was feeling, and overall the effect the medicine was having on my life. The medicine was having a great effect! I hadn't had an episode in quite awhile and I was so much more than fine, everything was great! I was happy and carefree and nothing could bring me down.

Mom and I sat down in the waiting room for the fifth time since starting the new medication, I leaned against my mother's shoulder.

"Thank you for letting me try, mom," I sighed contentedly.

Mom had been skeptical at first, but I knew that she had really loved seeing me so happy.

Renee moved her head to the side and placed a small kiss on top of my head.

A moment later everything changed; My ears started ringing, and my vision began to blur. I jerked upright in fear. "Mom…" I didn't have time to finish the sentence before I fell to the floor. Trapped in my mind, the world around me was underwater.

This couldn't be happening.

"IS ANYONE HERE? SOMEONE HELP!" I could hear mom yelling and then I could feel her move my head into her lap.

I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. My lungs felt like they were on fire.

After what felt like hours, my heart rate slowed and I could open my eyes again. I took a few deep breaths. Below my head, I could feel my mother's legs, and if I moved my hand I could feel the scratchy blue carpet of the waiting room.

I was halfway through my grounding exercises when I realized that I wasn't about to have an attack. I was fine.

A nurse came out I assume to call me into the exam room, but when she saw my crying mother and me on the ground she immediately rushed over.

"Is everything okay, what happened?" said the nurse. I was suddenly scared that they would take me off of the medicine if the doctors and nurses knew what happened.

"I'm fine, just a really intense headache. But I'm fine now, I promise."

At this Renee sat up straighter, "You are most definitely not fine Isabella."

Not willing to stick around for a lecture, I walked through the door towards the exam rooms. I waited for the nurse to stop talking to my mother and leaned against the cool walls behind me. I wouldn't let them pull me off the medicine. I was finally normal. I kept thinking of all the things I could do now that my anxiety wasn't controlling me. At the thought of all of that being taken away, I began to feel a familiar pull deep in my stomach and my hands clenched into fists.

Oh no, I would not have an anxiety attack. I refused.

I put all my effort into keeping myself calm.

The clenched fists loosened and the feeling of an impending attack disappeared.

I smiled softly to myself, resolved in knowing there was no way they would take me off the medicine because it very obviously just proved it worked.

The nurse came down the hallway, looking serious. It seemed she was checking for anything odd, but all the woman saw was a girl who looked as though she could take on the world.

I offered the nurse a smile and followed her towards the area where my vitals would be taken. Afterward, she led me to a room towards the back of the office and I took my seat, waiting for Steven to come in and ask the usual questions and then release me.

A few minutes later, a doctor entered, but the doctor was not Steven. It was an unfamiliar man with dull brownish hair and intense black eyes. He walked over to stand directly in front of me and stuck out his hand.

"My name is Dr. Hunter, I'll be the one working with you today," Dr. Hunter smiled, if you could call it that. The grimace on the man's face was menacing and made me uncomfortable. It was almost like he had never bothered using the muscles required to form the grin. I was confused and looked around the small room, suddenly feeling like it was getting smaller.

Clearing my throat and shaking off the feeling, I asked,

"Where's Stev- I mean Dr. Davis? He always does my sessions." Not being able to help the nervous feelings that began to fill my chest, my hands started to shake.

"I apologize Miss Swan, but it seems Dr. Davis has been tasked with talking to your mother this afternoon. Now, let's begin." Dr. Hunter's brisk no-nonsense attitude did not help with my nerves.

The two of us went through the session, I explained that my life was greatly improved and I also mentioned my photography. Once we got onto the topic of what happened today, everything began to change. My nerves, the same ones from the beginning of the session that had laid dormant while we went through the familiar routine, were again being set off by the discomfort I felt with Dr. Hunter.

All I could think of was going back to being the weak and friendless girl. I couldn't go back.

"Can you describe what happened today, Miss Swan?" Dr. Hunter's seemingly soulless eyes glanced up.

I couldn't help the shaking of my hands or the tapping of my feet against the linoleum floor. "Can I please go see my mother?" I whimpered.

"Miss Swan, just answer the question, I don't have all day."

I could feel my heart rate picking up and was getting scared. Your heart shouldn't go through this multiple times in one day.

I glanced around, relieved to find the door only a few feet away. I promptly stood and started towards the door.

"I need to see my mother, just real quick, I'll be fast, I promise."

Dr. Hunter stood and stepped in front of me. Simultaneously looking down at me and looking down on me.

"Now, Miss Swan, this can be over very quickly if you'd just sit down. You can see your mother when we're finished." His voice was hard.

I stepped to the left hoping to outmaneuver the older man, but the doctor was faster and stepped to the left in time with me. This caused me to trip over his feet, and subsequently crash to the ground.

Huffing and exasperated, Dr. Hunter was becoming quite fed up.

"Miss Swan! This is getting ridiculous, take a seat!"

I couldn't take it, the tears I had been desperately trying to hold in began to leak from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't do this, I needed my mom. In a last-ditch attempt to get to my mother, I got back up and ran towards the door. Dr. Hunter reached out and grabbed my arm to keep me from leaving the room before the end of the session. At his touch, I yelped. I heard people outside the door at that point. My escape was so close. At this, I just closed my eyes and wished.

I wished for no anxiety.

I wished for my mom and her loving embrace and soft touch.

I wished for my dad, and his accepting nature and quiet care.

I wished to be anywhere but where I was at that very moment in time.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw that I was no longer in an exam room. I was no longer face to face with Dr. Hunter.

I was in a high school.

I assumed I had passed out, or hit my head, or maybe even died. Those were the only things that even remotely made sense, seeing as I was in a high school.

I turned around and quickly spotted someone else in the hallway but stopped short.

The other person in the hallway was my dad. Or someone who looked exactly like my dad would've...20 years ago.

 _ **AN: Dr. Hunter is an ass, but lol he's supposed to be. What was that passing out in the waiting room thing? How is Bella seeing her dad? SO MANY QUESTIONS!**_

 _ **But yeah, we're getting to the start of the good stuff. I'm sorry the background has taken forever I just had to figure out how to introduce everything and here we are.**_

 _ **Tell me what you think, recommend fics to me, just say hi, I'm always down to talk to people!**_

 _ **Let me know if I should continue!**_

 _ **Stay Gold,**_

 _ **Who're**_


	4. Things I Don't Want to Deal With: This

**AN: SM owns all.**

The man in front of me stood tall in his navy and yellow hall monitor vest. The left side of it donning a name tag proudly displaying the name "Charles."

Oh God, I felt lightheaded.

There was no way this was happening.

"You should probably get to class, Renee, I can only give you one more warning."

I whipped around and it was in that moment that I realized the dad doppelganger was looking at a girl on the other side of me. A girl that was digging in her locker and pulling out what looked to be a pack of cigarettes.

"Please tell me you aren't smoking! Seriously, Renee. You have to know that isn't good for you!" Charles(...Dad?) said as he breezed past me with a purpose.

Renee? Mom? What the hell kinda weirdo fever dream/hallucination was I having?

I backed up into the lockers, successfully avoiding being noticed. I rolled my eyes at that. Like I had to worry about being noticed in _my_ dream!

"My, my, if it isn't the ever perfect Charlie Swan," the girl, Renee, laughed, "and was that a curse word. Well, shucks! What would your mother think?" the cheeky girl smirked.

What? Why on earth am I dreaming about my parents?

"Don't call me Charlie, you know I hate that," Charlie's, oh wait, Charles' spine straightened

Renee looked him up and down, her eyes full of appreciation. _Ugh, gross_. She sighed dramatically and took a step towards him.

"That's too bad, Charles," she drew out the name like she was tasting it on her lips, then frowned, "because it suits you." She winked at the boy.

I watched the blush creep up his neck, just like it does mine, and thought, _I think I'm gonna throw up_. Of all the things to pass out and have to watch, did my parents? Flirting?! WITH EACH OTHER?! Life really was a bitch.

The boy version of my father seemed momentarily stunned as the younger version of mom sauntered down the hall toward the exit.

Looking back in a moment of quick appraisal, my mother paused.

"Pick me up at 7 on Friday. I think it's about time you took me on a date, Charlie," her words bubbled into a giggle as she disappeared through the door, reaching into her bag and pulling out the pack of cigarettes.

"Um..yeah...okay," the boy stammered and flushed as he turned to walk back the way that he had come.

 _Shoot, shoot, shoot!_ I thought. If dad was coming back this way, that meant he was coming back straight towards me. There has to be another way out of here.

As I started down the hallway, trying to find any escape that I could, I somehow managed to trip over absolutely nothing. As my knees hit the ground all I could think was _of freaking course._

Charlie was rushing to my side and trying to help me up and I couldn't help but huff.

"Are you alright?" he asked, staring directly into my eyes. Into eyes that were the exact same as his own.

"I-I'm fine. Don't worry about it," I was stumbling over my words and couldn't seem to stop the things coming out of my mouth, "I fall, like, all the time. My dad always says that I should come with a warning label or something," my face heated over the words that had just come out of my mouth.

He huffed a laugh, and his smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

There was no way the man in front of me wasn't my dad. Jeez, this is weird.

"I haven't seen you around here before, what's your name?" he asked.

"Bella, Isabella, actually," this entire situation was making me feel weird.

"Isabella, huh, that's a nice name. Not something you hear very often but I like it," Charlie responded thoughtfully.

Of all the things to dream about I could not believe that my subconscious figured that meeting my teenage father pre-fatherhood was #1 on my to-do list. There were far more interesting places to be, like...well...anywhere!

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled.

Charlie and I stood in the middle of the hallway, awkwardly. I didn't know where else this conversation could go from here.

"You should get to class, I'll give you a warning this time because you're new, but-"

"I got it, no big deal," I interjected. I just wanted to get out of here at this point.

"Um, okay well, um" Charlie was trying to figure out what to say and as much as I appreciated the effort, I would appreciate not being in this situation more.

"Mhm! I'm going to get going," I said, starting to turn and walk the opposite direction, but before I could complete the turn I decided to make sure of one last thing, "I think you should go out with her, you guys would be really cute together."

I smiled to myself as I made my way down the hallway and outside, ducking through the same exit my mother had taken. As I got outside I couldn't help but notice the unearthly green color that surrounded me. The rain had created a wetness on all of the plants that aided in making them seem even more vibrant. It was like being inside of a painting.

 _Well now what_ I thought to myself, I'm trapped in the weirdest dream imaginable, and I have absolutely nowhere to go...maybe I should try that lucid dreaming thing…AND THEN JESSE MCCARTNEY APPEARED… as you may have guessed, Jesse McCartney did not appear.

With a sigh, I stepped out towards the main road. My head started to hurt and I felt a little light headed so I closed my eyes. Which, in retrospect, stepping out in the road and then closing your eyes is a fairly stupid move. As that thought crossed my mind, my eyes shot open to make sure there were no cars headed for me.

But I was no longer surrounded by the lush green forests, instead, I was in a doctor's office, with a mystified Dr. Hunter staring at me.

In shock, I moved back into the wall behind me. My back was flush against it in an effort to someone ground myself. What the actual hell was going on? I could've sworn that I was dreaming of being in Forks not three seconds ago and now I'm back in the doctor's office, standing? I looked around the room to make sure I was really there, I closed my eyes and counted to three, I pinched myself, I did everything that I could to make sure that I was really _truly_ there. I had no idea where that dream had come from, OR where it had gone quite frankly.

It took me a moment to register that Dr. Hunter was still staring at me. I stammered for a moment and finally cleared my throat.

"I'm going to leave now, I think we've done enough for today. Goodbye." With that, I made my way around Dr. Hunter and left, this time with no interruption.

My footsteps echoed on the linoleum as I made my way to the waiting room. I barely spared my mother a glance as I continued to the front door. I could feel Renee and Stephen's eyes on me.

"Okay, something isn't right, I'll call you later," my mother whispered.

I heard her stand and breathed a sigh of relief. I just wanted to go home.

Renee and I didn't talk the entire way home. When we finally pulled into the driveway I was annoyed with everything, with what had happened regarding the dream, with Dr. Hunter for being himself, with the sun for being so bright, everything. I felt like my world was falling apart.

I glanced over at mom, taking in her concerned eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered opening my door. I watched my worn out converse as I made my way towards the door.

"Isabella Swan, are you quitting?" My mom called after me. I physically felt the fire light inside of me. Renee knew that I had an abject fear of quitting, that that had been the reason that I stuck it out so long with literally everything, good and bad. Those things, those people, they didn't get to own me. I was many things. But I was not a quitter.

"I'm no quitter, mom, but I also know my limit," I took a deep breath and shut the door behind me. My head was still reeling from the day I had. I made it to my bedroom, managed to change into my comfiest pajamas and then collapsed into bed before exhaustion overtook me.

The entire night I dreamed. All of the dreams somehow involving my parents. I watched them get married from the last row in the chapel. I watched them moving into the house that my dad still lives in today. I watched them live happily and fulfilling lives. I was standing in the line of the forest behind the house and I was more than a little cold. I rejoiced when the scene changed to daylight and warm days that were few and far between in Forks.

Suddenly, There was a child crying.

"No mama no! I be good! Don't make me go!" the little girl with chocolate pigtails wailed while trying futility to pull her mother back to the dark green SUV.

With a sigh the little girls, mother bent at the knees.

"Baby girl," she said, brushing the stray hairs out of her face, "are you giving up?"

The little girl's lip quivered once before she visibly steeled herself against that idea. I could almost see the child's stream of thought. It was in that moment that I realized I was watching myself and my mother.

"No, no. Not giving up," her...my?...eyes were narrowed now and the little me spoke with a newfound conviction. "Let's go," she said grabbing her mother's hand and walking towards the building.

I could see both how much and how little I had changed.

I felt a little lightheaded and realized then that the scene was changing again.

 _Such a detailed and eventful dream_ I thought to myself.

The landscape faded into a frost covered window. Just beyond the glass was the couple each spewing dangerously nasty things at the other. Dad's eyes were passionate and filled with tears whereas mom's were resigned. I knew that look, not because I recognized my mom but because I had seen it in the mirror multiple times.

I crept closer to the house. Trying desperately to listen to what might be going on inside. The painted wood of the back door was freezing and quite frankly so was the night around me, but still, I slid down to sit on the porch.

It wasn't eavesdropping because this was just a dream, I was trying to convince myself.

"Renee, please, please don't do this," the wood of the door muffled it but I could still physically feel the anguish in his plea.

"Charlie," the woman's voice slipped quietly through the door, "you are perfect, you are sweet and whole, and I was never meant for perfect. I am reckless and damaged and for you I want more. For me I want more. But most of all, for our daughter, I want more. I can't confine her to a little town with nothing. I'm leaving and you can't change my mind, I won't let you," By this point, I had made my way to the window that looked into the kitchen. Sadly, this meant standing in the freezing snow.

Dad sat on a chair, hunched over in defeat, and mom looked beyond broken, looking towards the sky in an attempt to keep the tears already streaming down her cheeks at bay.

"I wish it could be different, Charlie," she whispered.

A baby monitor sitting on the table lit up with the cries of a child. Both adults looked at the machine.

Within ten minutes mom and little me were packed into a car, while dad stood on the stairs leading up to the front door of the home. He looked on helplessly as mom shut the back of the car. She approached him. Lifting her hand to his face and looking up at him with glassy eyes and with hope. He looked down at her and she sighed.

"I want you to find something to fight for, I want you to find someone worthy of you, Charles Swan." She said with as much conviction as her small voice could muster.

He closed his eyes and nodded, his voice too thick with emotion to respond.

I didn't realize I was crying until I couldn't help but sniffle. I had come to the conclusion that I was watching the end of my parent's relationship, but sadly, accepting that did not make the experience any easier.

Renee got in the car and drove off and Charlie went back into the house. My feet clad only in socks and standing in the snow wasn't helping me stay warm. The too big t-shirt and sleep shorts weren't doing much to help in that aspect either. I couldn't help but feel confused, I was wearing what I wore to bed, but my socks were physically soaked through.

 _What the hell?_ I thought as the world turned.

An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion began at the tips of my mind and I couldn't help but lean against the tree to my right.

What an odd dream to have… and then the world faded to black.

I sat up in bed with a start.

 _What the hell?_ I thought.

I felt tired still even though after glancing at the clock I realized that I'd been asleep for at least 9 hours. I ambled my way into the bathroom and peeled off my night clothes. When I got to my socks I was immediately confused. They appeared to be caked with mud and slightly wet.

Not to be repetitive, but what the hell?

With exhaustion flooding my brain I wrote it off quickly and pulled them off too. Then, I got in the shower to start my morning routine. Ready to forget about whatever that dream I had last night actually meant.

 **AN: Okay so, I got featured on A Different Forest's fic dive and wowe I am #blessed. I cannot tell y'all how excited I was! So special thanks to Tarbecca for being a bomb ass reader and for rec-ing my fic!**

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	5. All Wells that Ends Well

**AN: SM owns all. Also this chapter is shorter that I would have liked, so for that I apologize.**

I never went back to the clinic after that. If we're being honest, mom and I tried our damnedest to forget any of it had happened, the blackout, the dreams, the medication we wanted to put it all behind us. Mom couldn't stop going on and on about how she was right and the anxiety and the dreams I had mentioned to her briefly were obviously an issue with the hormones in our food.

Sadly, completely moving on wasn't possible at the moment, seeing as Dr. Hunter wouldn't leave us alone. If he wasn't emailing us, he was calling us, if we didn't answer he left voicemails. We were getting letters in the mail every other day and it was getting more and more intense.

I hadn't had another weird intense episode since the clinic. That being said I had really tried to keep my emotions and anxiety stamped down. I had a feeling this was for the best.

Steven had been over. Renee and he had fought and fought and when she refused to bring me back to the clinic, Steven had lost it. He yelled about the importance of figuring out what had happened, screamed about disappearing and reappearing in a matter of seconds. Renee laughed at the obviously delusional man and yelled right back. Renee was many things, she was childish at times, a bit of a pushover with her daughter, and hairbrained. But Renee would not be bossed around by a man.

"Steven, I want you to listen to me, and listen to me good. I have never thought of you as a stupid man, but if you think for one second I am going to allow you, a man who has known my daughter for about 5 minutes and has been more interested in her panic attacks than her, tell me what to do, than you're a fucking idiot. Get out and don't even think about coming back." Renee's tone was deadly. From my spot on the other side of the wall, I could hear everything. I was shocked. In the best way. My gentle smiles and loud laughing mother had just gone off on Steven. I was proud, I didn't think she had it in her.

Steven left and he didn't come back, but Dr. Hunter did. The letters he sent had been ignored. He called and after the seventh message it was all the same and we deleted the voicemails. Weeks had passed since Steven and Renee broke up and Dr. Hunter started showing up at our house, pounding on the door, and demanding we let him in. Mom and I sat on the kitchen floor when that happened, not wanting to chance being seen by him. This continued for weeks, past Renee telling him to leave or she would call the cops. He got particularly restless one night and ran around the house trying to open windows and the back door. That night Renee did call the cops, and within the next month, we had moved. Renting a house under my great aunt's name.

What was happening around me was insane. I found myself comparing my life to a TV show and a bad one at that. Here I am, an anxious and bullied almost high schooler, passing out at doctors offices and being stalked by crazy physicians. After all, I did just pass out.

Since Steven and Dr. Hunter both had been yelling about her disappearing and reappearing "like some kind of circus act" I had done everything I could to convince myself that I was fine. That, scientifically, there was no way what was happening was anything like what they were suggesting.

Except one thing kept haunting me.

One night Dr. Hunter had been outside for what felt like years. Mom and I were getting antsy and we knew he had to be about to leave. I stayed in the kitchen, with my back pressed against the purple cabinets and my knees tucked into my chest as I watched my mom crawl towards the door to see if he was gone.

I couldn't see her after she rounded the corner but I could hear her moving so I knew when she reached the door. It was silent for a second before the yelling started again.

He was deranged. Obsessed. I was horrified. He screamed at my mom things I am not allowed to repeat. Called her names, called me names, told her that he was going to find a way to take me away from her, for good because she was irresponsible and unfit. He went on. When he had calmed down I knew that mom must have called the police again. The red and blue flashing lights told me that I was right.

At this point, they had come over before and it was all the same. But as the police led him away he screamed one thing that hasn't stopped bothering me.

"At least tell me where the fuck she went!"

The words floated around my mind. I passed out, I hadn't gone anywhere. Had I?

I shook my head in an attempt to get the thoughts out of my head. I couldn't focus on that right now, I needed to focus on other things.

School is starting soon and if I'm being honest, I'm not terrified. This doesn't sound like much but if you compare it to previous years past its a vast improvement. I hadn't had an attack since that day in the clinic and I didn't plan on having another. I was pretty sure I was going to have the best school year yet.

So it wasn't the best school year yet. The school I went to was huge. But no one knew me and that was really nice. No one cared about me, or what I did.

I was outside one day after school. There was a new park with walking trails and all that fun stuff past our new house and it'd been months since we had heard from Dr. Hunter so mom was finally willing to let me go about my own exploring.

I had just gotten home from school and the first thing I did was pick up my camera and run outside. The walking trails were beautiful, oranges and tans mixed in with the greens and browns. I loved Phoenix, I really did. But I couldn't help but reminisce about the green that was everywhere in Forks. Yes, there were little bits of green here and there, but it was nothing compared to the green that practically drowned you in Washington.

I took pictures of everything. Of the park, of the sky, of the trees, everything. I finally sat down with my back to one of the larger trees on the trail and started to look through the pictures. It was late afternoon, and I couldn't help but yawn. The pictures I had gotten today were decent, but they weren't what I hoped for.

I fixed my cameras strap back around my neck and leaned my head back against the rough bark. I started to filter through the pictures in my mind.

My stomach dropped.

That was odd.

When I opened my eyes again I was surrounded by huge trees. The reds and oranges of Arizona were nowhere to be seen. Instead, I was in the middle of a huge forest. Trees reaching to the sky, the very blue sky.

 _Was I in Forks again? No, no, that couldn't be right, something wasn't quite right._

Before I could put too much thought into where I was and how I got here, I heard a twig snap behind me.

I whirled around, only to come face to face with a long black gun barrel.

 _Holy crow_ was all I could think before the ground rushed up to meet me.

My head was pounding when I started to come to, and I was moving...I was in someone's arms…

I groaned. The movement of things was not helping the headache I had.

"Well, I ain't sure if you can hear me in there, but you took quite the little fall back there. Hit your head on a rock and everything, if I hadn't been so worried I might've laughed." His voice was southern, that was for sure. It was deep and rough. But I could also hear the smile in his voice as he talked to me.

I peeked open an eye at the man carrying me. His face was playful, handsome, but still oddly childlike. He noticed my observation and glanced down at me. He had sparkling blue eyes and dimples that people would kill for.

"Welcome back, princess," He grinned, "you didn't look so good so I'm taking you back to mine and we're gonna see if Ma or one of my sisters has something for ya. I don't know where you got these denim trousers or why they're so goshdarned fitted but that can't be comfortable." He rambled. He couldn't have been more than 18 or 20. He was probably just as nervous as I was.

"Are you talking about my jeans?" I questioned. I hadn't heard the term trousers since I had an old movie marathon with Renee over Christmas break last year.

"Is that what they're called?" He stopped and glanced down at me, "Think you can manage to stay on your feet now?" I nodded.

He set me down and made sure I was steady and standing straight before stepping away from me. He was pure muscle. This dude had to be a bodybuilder or something. Holy shit. But he was dressed weird like he was in a period piece or history book or something.

His eyes lit up, and he pulled the pack he had slung around him to the front, reached in and pulled out my camera.

"What exactly is this?" He held it out to me, "it was in your hands before you fell."

I took it from him and checked it over, if I had fallen with it, did it still work? I put my eye to the viewfinder and held it up to the man. He looked at me with a mixture of wonder and confusion. I snapped the picture. Good, everything still works properly. _Phew._

"It's my camera," I stated, picking at the place where the camera was a little marked up from my fall, "I was taking pictures in the park when you came at me with a gun to my head." I looked up and glared.

He smirked at me,

"Missy, I don't know what park you're talking about but you was in the forest, and I had a gun cause I was hunting." His smirk never left his face,

"What forest? This is Phoenix, there's not forest in Phoenix and there's definitely no hunting allowed!" I couldn't believe this guy, hunting in a public park.

"Phoenix? I ain't never heard of Phoenix, not anywhere but especially not in Tennessee," he looked at me strangely "You do know where you at and what your name is? What today is and such? I had a buddy that took a nasty fall working and he couldn't remember a damned thing."

"I might have fallen but I didn't fall that hard. My name is Bella, we're not in Tennessee, we're in Arizona and the date is October 12th, 2005." I wanted to roll my eyes at this man, I wasn't some amnesia victim. I had fainted out of fear I was about to be shot, I didn't think that that was an odd reaction.

His eyes got very wide and he cleared his throat.

"I think you might've really hurt yourself, Let's go talk to my ma," he motioned for me to follow and began to walk towards the log looking house that was in front of us.

"Wait just a minute! You tell me what's going! I'm not going to just follow someone I don't know into a house based on some insane notion that I don't know what I'm talking about!" I punctuated with a stomp which, come to think of it, might have been a little much.

"Well, my name is Emmett McCarty, ma'am. I'm sorry for not leading with that. But you fell and then we got back and you were spouting out nonsense about Arizonas and 2005s, I got concerned." He stood about 5 feet away from me, looking sheepish but determined.

"I'm Isabella Swan...it's-it's nice to meet you," I was getting increasingly more concerned about what was happening around me, I cleared my throat and began talking again, "what do you mean by nonsense?" I asked quietly.

"Well...there's not Arizona around these parts, in fact, the closest town is Gatlinburg," he took a deep breath, his pause giving me time to absorb that I had somehow ended up in Tennessee. Maybe I'd been drugged and kidnapped dropped in the forest. Far fetched, but I guess it was possible. "But what really concerned me was you saying it was 2005, but that's a bit far in the future there, miss Bella, it's 1932." He gulped and looked at me warily.

Taking into account Emmett's clothes, the house behind him, the clean air, the untouched forest, his reaction to my jeans, to my camera, the entire situation was spinning around me and before I knew my long lost friend the ground was getting closer and closer. Just as I felt Emmett catch me all I could think was _Time travel...now that's far-fetched._

 **AN: I was a day later posting this than I wanted to be but let me tell y'all it had been a long and eventful week since the last time I updated. Anyways, like I mentioned at the top I apologize for the shortish length. The next chapter follows up. If you have any questions, ideas, etc you would really like to see answered leave a review, and I'll try to find a way to include it.**

 **As always, please review, recommend fics to me, tell me about your day, etc. I love talking to people and would particularly love talking to y'all.**

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 **Stay gold,**

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 **P.S. I don't know if y'all got the pun that I made in the Chapter title but if you did you can be**


	6. Superman Got Much Cooler Superpowers

**AN: SM owns all.**

My head was pounding. I had been having the weirdest dream, being stuck in Tennessee in 1932 with a huge guy named Emmett. There was something damp on my forehead and some god-awful smell around me. I moved away from it, turning over and groaning.

There was a laugh in the background. A man's laugh.

Shit.

I raised my hands to my eyes and groaned again. This nightmare that had become my life wasn't making sense. I'd taken basic science, I'd read the books. Time travel shouldn't be possible. Yet, here I was. Somehow having travel to 1932.

I pinched myself. It hurt. This was real. Emmett laughed again.

I opened my eyes in time to see a plump women hit Emmett in the back of the head and shush him.

"Mind your manners boy, this girl has been through enough without your making fun of her. Now mind yourself and go get one of your sister's dresses, these tight trousers can't be helpin' the poor thing."

I said nothing as the woman trotted over to me and sat down near my knees. She pat my leg and sighed.

"Alright girly, I'm not the kind to ask many questions but I'm a little more than confused right now. Care to shine some light on some things?" She was sweet and she talked softly to me. I could tell that she was concerned, her maternal nature shined through every part of her.

"My name is Isabella, but I go by Bella," I rushed the words out, "I don't know what happened or where I am, I'm sorry that I keep fainting,'' I sighed "it's just been a really long day."

She smiled sympathetically at me and removed the damp rag from my forehead.

"My Emmie tells me that you hit your head?" She said.

"Yes ma'am, I was a little out of it for a moment. But I think that I'm okay now," I tried to manage a smile but worried that it came out more as a grimace.

Mrs. McCarty hushed me and told me to call her Dorothy, informing me that "Mrs. McCarty" made her feel old.

If I truly had gone back in time, what did that mean? Did that mean that I was stuck here? In 1932? Shit, I didn't see this working out well, while I'm not insanely outspoken, I'm not one to let people tell me who and how to be simply because I'm a girl.

I glanced back at Dorothy. She held herself with an air that seemed strong and gentle at the same time. I liked her. But I didn't need anyone thinking that I was any crazier than they already did. So at this moment in time, I figured it best to keep my mouth shut and figure out how exactly this time travel thing worked.

When Dorothy finally turned around again she looked at me like she was waiting for something. She raised an eyebrow at me and cocked her hip to the side. I cleared my throat and looked away.

The room I was in was exactly what you would think the inside of a house made partially out of logs would look like. The couch I was on was lumpy but comfortable. The furniture was made up of browns, tans, and the occasional reddish color. The fireplace was beautiful. It was all light stone and sat out from the wall. The small pot that sat on top of the fire radiated a delicious smell.

During my observations, I hadn't noticed another girl walk in. She looked to be close to my age, maybe a little older. She came up next to me and crouched down beside the couch. Her eyes the same blue as her brothers, her smile putting me at ease.

"My name is Doris, but people call me Dot. I'm Emmett's sister. I brought you a dress to change into," She talked to me softly and held out a pale blue dress to me, "Would you need any help, Bella?" She said holding out her hand.

"That might be a good idea, thank you," I reached for her hand and let her help me up.

Dorothy ducked out of the room and yelled that everyone needed to leave me alone for the time being as I was getting out of those wretched denim trousers, her words, not mine.

Dot shuffled her feet.

"I really just wanted to make sure you didn't fall, I'll turn around so you can change," she said as she turned.

"Thank you," I responded softly. I might not have known much about the 1930s but I knew that underwear and bras had most definitely evolved since then.

I slid off my jeans and pullover and pulled on the dress, as I was fighting to get my arms in the right holes and my head through the top Dot cleared her throat.

"So, Emmie says you're from the future," she stated nonchalantly.

Already off balance because of my falling twice today, and trying to figure out how to put on this dress, I couldn't help it when the shock of what she had just said hit me in a way that quite literally threw me off balance.

My butt hit the couch and the dress that was still over my face muffled my groan a little. I could hear Dot turn and she immediately began to help me with the dress. She grimaced and we worked in silence for the time being. We managed to get the dress on and sat in the awkward quiet.

"I guess I am from the future," I muttered, "you swear that we're actually in 1932 and this isn't some cruel joke, right?" I said, searching her blue eyes.

"This is definitely 1932," She said, "would you like to go for a walk around the property with me?" She leaned in closer "It's just me, Emmett and Ma, but there are fewer ears if we take a walk." She whispered.

I nodded and together we began to make our way outside. The house was much smaller than you would think a family with 5 children would need. But I guess with it being 1932 that must have been normal. Unless I missed my guess, I had landed in the middle of the great depression.

Dot and I got outside and walked out from the house a little bit making small talk about life when Emmett came bounding up to us with my camera in hand.

"Wait! I need you to tell me what this is because I can't figure it out. That bright light that came out of it earlier ain't working no more." He dangled it in front of him, barely holding on to the neck strap.

I grabbed for it immediately. The camera was my only lifeline at this point. Sighing when I got my hands on it. I flipped it over a few times and made sure that everything still worked like it needed to. I glanced up.

"You guys, get together and smile," I said, motioning for them to get closer.

Emmett's face brightened with a grin almost instantly, showcasing his killer dimples. He threw an arm around Dottie who's grin while bright was nowhere close to her brothers.

I snapped the shot and waved them over to show them the picture on the tiny display screen. It was crazy to see a photo of this clarity taken in a time where every image that we have is in sepia tones and no one smiles. The two siblings look happy and goofy. They looked human. I think that it is easy to forget that the people that came before us actually existed, actually had lives.

Before we took off again, Dot looked at me, silently asking if I was okay that Emmett was joining us. I smiled and nodded. Something about Emmett felt familiar. He was comfortable. Dot seemed pleased that I was okay with having Emmett around.

The three of us sat on the ground far from the house, Dot and Emmett leaned over my camera, oohing and ahhing at the pictures I had taken, that put a smile on my face. I knew that they were really just impressed with the caliber of camera I had, not actually with the pictures I had taken, but I let myself pretend for a bit. The continued playing with the camera and I simply leaned my head back and absorbed the sunshine and clean air around me.

"How are you going to get home, Bella?" Emmett asked suddenly, surprised by the noise I opened my eyes shot open, "Not that I'm kicking you out of course," he tried to recover. Dot bumped his arm with her shoulder.

"I knew what you meant, don't worry," I said quietly, sighing "I honestly don't know how to get back. I just kinda realized what was happening today. It's not like I tried to get here… I just sort of ended up in the woods...in Tennessee... in 1932." I drew out playing with the grass around me.

Dot giggled and Emmett's dimples made an appearance as he smirked in response as well.

"How did you know I was a time traveler anyway...I didn't even know," Emmett looked sheepish.

"I, uh, I-" Dot quickly cut him off, slinging her arm around him.

"Emmie here loves to read! Just finished the Time Machine by Wells." She said, her tone was playful but you could also hear a hint of pride in her voice.

"It was mostly wishful thinking on my part I guess. Can you tell us about 2005? I get famous, right? I bet I invent something or my hunting skills are so great that they give me tons of prizes!" His blue eyes sparkled and he flopped back into the grass.

I'd never heard of an Emmett McCarty. But I was not one to disappoint so I simply winked at Emmett and shrugged. His grin grew wider.

The day I spent with the McCarty siblings was one of the best ones I'd had in a long time. It was the perfect temperature, warm and a little windy. The sun shining just bright enough to heat your skin, but the wind had just enough chill to remind you that you were alive. We stayed out in the yard talking until the sunset. I learned many things that day. Turns out Dot was older than Emmett, though now by much. They were Irish twins, barely 11 months apart. Dot was extremely maternal and dreamed of having "a bunch of chubby little babies runnin' around." I laughed at this, Emmett just rolled his eyes.

The siblings and their mother were all fairly close. They lived on their piece of property and made do with what was around them. Emmett was the hunter of the family, and while his sister and mother didn't like it very much, having lost the children's father to a hunting accident about 10 years ago, Emmett loved it and was great at what he did. Boasted about it tons.

We also talked about my time traveling. It was still extremely difficult for me to accept that that was what was actually happening. I told the siblings everything, from my anxiety to my time with the clinic, my apparent disappearance and subsequent reappearance at the clinic and everything since then. I now realized that the so-called dreams I had of my parents were episodes. (Dot and Emmett didn't like that I called them episodes. Emmett said that my time traveling superpower deserve a better name than an episode. Dot called them my adventures. I rolled my eyes at this.)

As it got darker the sun began to set and we all moved back into the house. Dorothy smiled at us as we walked in and told us to fix our plates and have a seat. Dinner was an affair, not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that made me wish for siblings. I loved Renee, I really did. But I had always dreamed of having a bigger family, with playful siblings, brothers to mess with and tease, sisters to talk about anything and everything with. The McCarty family might not have been huge in size, but in their combined personalities made them feel gigantic. I loved it.

By the time my bed was made on the couch and we had all said goodnight to each other my sides hurt from the amount of laughing I had done tonight. The fire was small at this point in the evening, but still bright enough to see the room. Their house was small, there was no denying that. But it was a home. I sighed, missing my own home now.

I didn't have the slightest clue about how I was going to get home. At this point, I guess I'd just have to marry that first man that offered and make my life here in the 30s. Maybe I'd get a job as a fortune teller, posting my predictions about the future in the newspaper. I could make money off that...I had a good memory and paid attention in history. As I thought about this I couldn't help but shake my head and roll my eyes at my own dramatics. I was going to get home. I just had to figure out how.

I got a strange feeling in my stomach and my head got a little lightheaded. I remembered this feeling from the other times I had apparently been traveling. It had to mean that I was about to make a trip. I shot up from the couch, with the intent of finding something to write on, to thank the McCarty family. My head, already feeling light, did not appreciate the sudden movement.

Grabbing Emmett's copy of the time machine, the same one he had given me as soon as we got back to the house and told me I HAD to read, with the intent to write a note on the cover, I stumbled over to where there was a "pen." I also through my camera around my neck. I snapped pictures of the room if this was my life now I was going to have proof. Remembering my mission, I opened the inside cover and grabbed the pen.

How did people ever write with these things?!

I sat the pen down trying to find a pencil or something else to use instead, but the feeling in of my stomach lurching made me close my eyes.

When I opened them again, I was back in the park. In Phoenix. The sun was almost completely set.

Shit, Renee is going to kill me.

I ran home and burst inside my camera heaving with my chest at my heavy breathing.

Renee had the phone to her ear and looked up at me as I came in.

"Oh! Oh, God! She just came in! Nevermind, I am so so so sorry to bother you, officer!" She gushed into the phone, hanging up before they had a chance to answer.

She rushed over and gathered me in her arms. We held onto each other in the entryway of our house.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" She whispered into my hair.

"I can't promise that mama," I said, pulling away from her.

"The hell you can't, Isabella Marie!" She said, starting to go on a rant about the crazy people in the world, specifically the clinic that was still after me.

"No, no! Wait I have an explanation as to why! I think you may need to sit down for this," I was nervous and I knew she could tell from the way my voice wavered.

She looked at me skeptically, but we moved to the living room anyway.

We sat on the couch. I crossed my legs in front of me, suddenly realizing that I was still in Dot's dress. I smoothed it in front of me.

"Bella, where did you get that dress?" My mom questioned.

"That's part of the explanation, I promise," I took a deep breath. "I'm just going to say this because I know you appreciate it when people don't beat around the bush."

Renee nodded her head.

"So, the medicine worked, my anxiety is way more manageable now. But also there are new developments," I looked down at my hand, I was still holding Emmett's book, I glanced back at Renee, "have you ever read the Time Machine?"

 **AN: WOW.**

 **I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter, I don't really know why. I think it might just be because I am a busy busy bee, but I finished it. It's not the best thing I've ever written but like it happens.**

 **So Emmett (the love of my life) is probably the best person ever, and a great big brother and son** **™. I plan on having a lot of fun writing him in the future ;))))**

 **You know the drill, I love hearing from y'all!**

 **Stay Gold,**

 **Who're**

 **P.S. is there a specific character you would like to see Bella meet next? I can't promise anything as the story does have an outline but seeing as this is fanfiction, I am more than willing to take audience suggestions if it works!**

 **P.P.S. I really do appreciate y'all! I love it when you fav/follow/review. It makes my heart happy to hear from you.**


	7. Inconveniences

**AN: SM owns all.**

Previously _:_

" _Bella, where did you get that dress?" My mom questioned._

" _That's part of the explanation, I promise," I took a deep breath. "I'm just going to say this because I know you appreciate it when people don't beat around the bush."_

 _Renee nodded her head._

" _So, the medicine worked, my anxiety is way more manageable now. But also there are new developments," I looked down at my hand, I was still holding Emmett's book, I glanced back at Renee, "have you ever read the Time Machine?"_

Renee looked at me like I was stupid, which didn't bode well for the conversation as I was already beyond tired. Turns out, time-traveling tends to take some energy. My irritability rose significantly.

"The book from the early 1900s? I mean, I'm sure I did, maybe in High School? Not something I really remember though," My mother's blue eyes were concerned as she spoke, but the confusion that flooded them at my question almost masked it.

"It isn't really important I guess...but the book revolves around time travel and a machine that can take someone through time, I ask because-" My mother cut me off before I could finish my sentence.

"Isabella Marie, if you are about to tell me you invented something that can pull you through time I think I might have to take you to the hospital," her attempt at a joke fell flat, a little too close to home.

It was in that moment that I realized telling and convincing my mother I could travel through time when it took two very convincing siblings to convince me the person that was actually being pulled through time, was going to be trying.

Stubbornness was something that not only ran on my father's side but on my mothers, creating one stubborn child and when a stubborn child tries to convince a stubborn mother that previously mentioned child can travel through time, well, let's just say, lots of yelling occurs.

Renee didn't believe me the first time I told her, or the second, the third she tried to get me in the car to get me checked out by a doctor, the fourth time she believed me. Not because she actually decided that her daughter was maybe telling the truth but because I disappeared in front of her. Tears streaming down both of out faces, my stomach lurched.

I had just gotten home from school, slipped off my shoes by the door, and settled into the couch with yet another book on time travel, much to my mother's dismay. We started to argue again when I remembered I had pictures of Emmett and Dot! I picked up my camera and was flipping through the pictures.

I went from yelling at my mother in the living room, attributing the symptoms I now know are precursors to the jumps, or adventures as Dot would call them, through time to my hatred of confrontation, to standing in an open meadow area.

I had closed my eyes to listen to my mother's denial of my ability when I opened my mouth to yell back and heard a high pitched yelp, followed by a thump and then a groan. My eyes shot open, quickly realizing I had traveled. My backpack still on my back and my camera in my hands.

I ran over to the heap of girl on the ground, taking in that I was still as barefoot as I was in my time.

"Are you okay?" I asked the girl, trying to help her sit up. I slipped my camera into my bag and threw it back on.

"What do you mean am I okay? I just fell out of a tree! After I watched a young girl appear out of nowhere! Not only is my leg on fire but I've most definitely lost my mind," She was upset and extremely sarcastic, that much was clear.

I automatically liked her.

"Your leg is on fire? Do you think you broke it? Should we get you to a doctor? Can you stand?" The questions tumbled out of my mouth.

"I couldn't care less about my leg, well, that may not be true, but would you mind explaining to me how you just appeared," she reached out her arms, "it'll help distract me from the pain while you walk me to the doctor."

So I helped the girl up and we limped our way towards civilization. She was hurt and I think her leg might have been broken but I didn't tell her that, I just talked.

"You won't believe me if I tell you, but I will if you want to know," she merely grunted in response. So I told her everything. The worst that could happen is she thought I was crazy. If that was the case I would get her to humanity, make sure she could find help and then go back to the woods and bide my time until I figured out how to get back to the present...

I was talking about traveling to the 1930s and Emmett and Dot by the time we reached her house. She had me help her to the ground and we sat in the grass for a moment while she caught her breath.

"I've decided to believe you and this conversation isn't over," her coffee-colored eyes set in such a way and her tone so full of maternal conviction that I didn't dare question her, "you need to change. I have some clothes that are hanging on the clothesline over there, pull something on and tell my brother to go fetch the doctor. As far as anyone is concerned you are a new friend, I met you through Helen. You are her cousin, understood?"

I was in shock. I had no idea how I had gotten this woman to believe me but I simply nodded, not willing to question the blessing that had fallen into my lap. I pulled off my sweatpants and my hoodie and quickly slipped on one of the dresses on the clothesline. It didn't quite fit but it would have to work. I realized at that moment that the girl who had fallen out of the tree had never told me her name.

My feet were still bare as I ran through the soft grass back towards the girl, it was at that time that I noticed that she was talking to a boy that was a little younger than us. I slowed and watched as the young boy's eyes widened and he turned and took off in a sprint towards what must have been the towns doctor.

I closed the distance between me the girl and settled back into the grass beside her. She watched me closely as all this happened. There was no malice in her gaze, simple curiosity.

"I don't know your name," I stated, running my fingers through the grass at my sides.

"I don't know yours either," I glanced up at her and saw her smirk. It was in that moment that I realized that I had to be talking to one of the strongest women on the planet. I had broken bones. I knew how much pain she had to have been in. Yet, she was smirking and remained playful. She was hospitable to a stranger, one that most would deem insane for even suggesting they were from the future. I was in awe.

"Bella."

"Esme."

We sat next to each other and simply took the other in for a moment. She closed her eyes and leaned back. The setting sun was warm against my skin so I followed her lead and tried to bask in it but couldn't get the nagging concerns out of my head.

"Pardon my rudeness, but how are you not withering in pain on the ground? Your leg is broken, you compared it to a fire not too long ago?" I asked.

Her warm eyes met mine and as they looked into my soul, willed me to not ask anymore.

"There are things worse than physical pain, Bella. This is nowhere near as bad as some of the things I have dealt with," I didn't like the sound of that but heeded her request to ask no more questions on the matter and moved towards small talk.

Esme and I sat in that grass and got to know each other. I was quickly realizing that I would apparently be cursed with making better friends in my jumps through time than I could ever dream of making in the present. Esme was sweet and one of the most compassionate people I had ever met and she still maintained a playful and sarcastic attitude, something I didn't think was very common in this time.

The year was 1911 and Esme was 16. She had one brother, the boy who had run for the doctor and came from a well-off family. Though they had been having money troubles, which led her to tell me that she was engaged to a man named Charles. Her eyes got sad and almost empty when she talked about this man. I didn't like that so I quickly changed the subject back to what she was planning to do.

Esme grinned and started to tell me of her plans to have a big family and a beautiful house one day, but was interrupted by her brother coming back with quite possibly one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen.

He was tall and the sun, while it was basically completely set behind him, shrouded him in a glow that had to be otherworldly. He wasn't dressed like a doctor, but with it almost night I guess he was off duty.

He made his way over to us, took one look at my new friend's leg and suggested we move inside where he could accurately assess the situation. I started to help Esme up, but he stopped me and picked her up like she weighed nothing.

Her eyes were wide as she raised her eyebrows at me, looking over the doctor's shoulder. I simply shrugged.

Esme's brother had run ahead of all of us to get the door to the house and we entered into a living room area. The doctor sat Esme on the couch and felt her leg for a moment.

"I do believe your leg is broken, ma'am," there was an accent in his voice, one that I couldn't place. I could listen to him talk forever and from the look on Esme's face, she could too. She seemed thoroughly entranced by the doctor.

"A pity, Dr. Cullen, a real pity," she said completely unconvincingly, not taking her eyes off the doctors face. I'd say Esme was more than willing to continuously break her leg every other month if it meant that the man in front of her was the one that took care of her.

The doctor chuckled and continued wrapping Esme up. I sat in the background, content in watching everything around me. Esme's parents were gone somewhere and her brother had cared little about me, so it was just the three of us.

Dr. Cullen and Esme moved like they were connected somehow. Like they were magnets, each tiny shift made by one of them, affected the other. It was amazing to watch and I found myself longing for something like that.

I wished that I had someone waiting at home, my other half, that could take this adventure that is my life and maybe add a little romance. A girl could dream.

I realized after a moment that I had stopped paying attention and Dr. Cullen had finished looking over Esme's leg. She'd been wrapped up tight but I don't think she had stopped looking at Dr. Cullen long enough to think about anything else.

"I do believe you are all set, Miss Platt," He smiled a smile that Esme all but swooned at. I couldn't help but let out a small giggle, which seemed to draw Dr. Cullen's attention to me again, "it's been a pleasure, Miss…" he waited. It was at that moment I believe both he and Esme realized that they had been so caught up in each other that they had not only not acknowledged me but hadn't even bothered to introduce me. I raised my eyebrow at the two.

"Swan," I stood and held out my hand to the doctor. His eyes seemed to be so light brown that they were almost caramel. If only my own boring brown could be that beautiful. He hesitated in taking my hand, looking at me skeptically, but shook it anyway.

"I or one of my colleagues will check on you soon, Miss Platt," he nodded, and let himself out.

I glanced at Esme, giggled and sat back on the overstuffed sofa in the room.

"You've got it bad," I said through my giggles. Esme looked at me with concern.

"No, I don't! Dr. Cullen said it was a minor break. Nothing serious," She said in a very matter of fact tone. This caused me to full out belly laugh.

"That's not what I meant, ''got it bad'' is slang from my time, meaning you really REALLY liked Dr. Cullen," I said, accentuating my words with a wink.

Esme's whole face went red. But she also smirked and nodded.

"I do believe you're right, Bella, I have got it bad for a certain Dr. Cullen."

 **AN: Okay so I suck. This chap is way late, but I am trying to put together a chapter/story outline so that everything runs smoother in the future. We will be with Esme for at least another chapter!**

 **I hope y'all have a great week!**

 **Let me know what you think (also if you have any beta suggestions?)**

 **Stay Gold,**

 **Who're**


	8. It's All Gonna Be Okay, I Hope

**A/N: SM owns the characters, but the story and the plot below are mine.**

I had been in 1911 for 3 days, and while Esme was great, I missed my home. I had left in the middle of an argument with my mom and I was feeling increasingly worse about it as time passed. I was laying in the room that Esme had let me stay in, staring at the ceiling, hoping that I could somehow manage to figure out how to control this time travel thing.

I had been up for at least an hour, gotten dressed and laid back down. I didn't know what to do, so I waited.

There was a small knock at the door that interrupted my internal musings.

"Come in," I sighed.

"You really should take more pity on me, Bella. I am the one with the broken leg after all." Esme said as she managed her way into my room.

I sprung from the bed, throwing her right arm around my shoulder.

"God, I'm so so sorry, I've been a terrible guest. I just can't help but worry about my mom. I haven't ever been in the past for this long." I was scared and I am sure that you could tell that by the tremors in my voice.

Esme hummed, I knew that there was little she could say and I am sure she knew that no matter how comforting, her words would do very little for me now.

"Dr. Cullen will be here soon, so there is little we can do, but I have some ideas," she stood, slowly, and leaned against my bedpost, "now, Bella, if you don't mind, I would very much love your help." She smiled a slow smile and in that moment I knew that if I ever were a mother, I could only hope to have some shred of Esme's slow patience.

"Absolutely. You go sit down and I will make tea."

The two of us made our way back into the main area of the house. I settled Esme on the couch with her leg propped high and told her I would be right back.

The tea was easy enough to make, though it did allow me time to think. There was so much to explore and if I really was stuck in 1911 I might as well take advantage. Maybe Esme and I could pack some bags and hop on a train. There was so much world to explore and if this was really the life I was supposed to live, this one in 1911, then I might as well live it to its fullest extent. I was thinking of the places we could go, a big city seemed to be the only option, it was 1911 so women and jobs still hadn't quite taken to each other but if we were going to find one, the city is where it would be.

There was a knock at the door, so I quickly put the teapot and some cups on a tray and set them by Esme in the living room and got the door.

"Dr. Cullen," I smiled, "it is a pleasure to see you again." And it was.

"You as well, Miss Swan." He was gentle, even in his tone of voice. We started toward the living room when he turned back towards me.

"Have we met before? You seem very familiar," His eyes were different, but they held the same deep knowledge that they had the other day, he was looking at me now as though he really did know me.

"I don't think so, sir, I haven't really ever traveled far from home," a gross understatement in regards to my recent adventures but in the traditional sense, it was true.

He let out a soft hmm and we got to the living room and again it was as though I was watching a romance. The soft lighting in the living room only lending to the fledgling relationship blooming in front of me. Esme's brown eyes seemed to light up just looking at Dr. Cullen. There should be books written about these two.

"Dr. Cullen, as much as I do enjoy your presence I really do wish that it was under better circumstances," Esme flirted.

A soft laugh came from the doctor as he and Esme discussed her leg, her healing and what her next few weeks would look like. Once they finished and Dr. Cullen stood, Esme, reached out and grabbed his hand. A small gasp left both of them.

"Won't you stay for tea? With such cool hands, the warmth would do you good, Doctor," Her tone was still flirty with a timbre of worry now.

"I wish I could, but I need to finish packing, miss," His eyes were sad, the atmosphere in the room took on a colder air.

"Packing? Where are you going?" Esme, the ever-proper woman, didn't have a chance to arrange her words, they were rushed out. Having only been here three days, I didn't know Esme well, but I knew her well enough, she very much liked the doctor, a crush might have been an understatement, she felt a draw to him that neither of us understood, but I knew that she wanted nothing more than the chance to have it go somewhere. To have someone maybe even pull her away from Charles. She had hope that she could learn to love him when they first met. But he was not a nice man. Esme didn't like to talk much on the subject and when we had talked about him she simply put up her chin a little higher and changed the subject.

"Chicago, there plenty of work there for a doctor and your town is growing, everyone that I have worked with is more than capable of taking care of your leg, ma'am, I would never leave you in bad hands, Miss Platt."

His words were sweet but they did little to sway Esme. Her disappointment was evident on her face but she was trying to cover it up.

"I hear Chicago is quite windy, though I suppose living in a big city would be more preferable than here," Her word in regards to Chicago boded well for my plan. "I won't keep you from packing, but you are always welcome to stop in for tea, Dr. Cullen."

"Please, call me Carlisle."

"Carlisle, then."

They smiled softly at each other and I decided that now was as good a moment as any to gather the tray and take them back to the kitchen. They spoke softly for a while longer. Carlisle appeared in the doorway, asking me to walk him out.

"You're sure we've never met each other, Isabella?" He said.

"Almost positive, Dr. Cullen," I looked up at him. He didn't believe me but I didn't need him to. I walked him to the door and bid him safe travels.

I made my way back into the living room and sat next to Esme. She was sad, that much was to be expected.

"Have you ever been in love, Bell?" She asked me. Her words weren't much more than a whisper.

"Not that I know of," I responded.

She looked towards the door, "You would know."

We sat in silence a moment longer before she spoke again. Always thinking about others, never one to dwell on herself. I admired her generous nature.

"Now, how are we going to get you home, missy?" She looked at me and her eyes while a bit melancholy were still warm.

"About that, I've been thinking. What if you and I just left. We could wait for you to heal a bit more and then we could pack some bags and leave. You don't love Charles, I know you don't, you've said as much to me and maybe I'm supposed to be in this time, maybe I am meant to be here. Maybe you and I were meant to meet and meant to get away. So why not explore? There are so many things I would love to see and, Essie, the world is about to change so much, you have no idea, the world we could live in, and that we could see together will truly be amazing to be a part of. I just really thin-"

"You need to go home, Bell," she was resolved.

"But we could follow Dr. Cullen to Chicago, well, not follow him that would be very weird." I was pleading with her.

"No, Bella. You have a whole life back in your time. You need to be there. Grow there. You have a family. I love you and I will always be thankful that I had the opportunity to know you, to be your friend, but I would never dream of taking you away from that."

"Essie," there were tears gathering in my eyes, but I knew she was right.

"Now come on. Let's go to your room, let's get you changed, and then let's get you home. I have an idea, remember?"

The two of us, Esme leaning against me, made our way to my room. I slipped back into my hoodie and put my bag on my shoulder. Then I remembered my camera. I quickly grabbed it and took some quick pictures of the room. Of Esme in the corner on her overstuffed chair. She seemed a bit shocked at the flash but took it in stride. Graceful as ever.

"Its a camera from my time, I forgot I had it," I explained, "take a picture with me, if I really am going home, I want to take a part of you with me."

So the two of us sat next to each other, me on the arm of the chair and Esme in it, she leaned her face close to mine so that we were both in the frame and I snapped the photo. When I looked at it later I would see that we both had tears in our eyes.

"Alright Bell, close your eyes," I closed them, Esme set something in my hand, but told me to keep my eyes closed, so I did.

"Think about home, about everything good and happy. About apologizing to your mother, about the hug you will get when you finally walk back in, about your own bed and your own pillows. Think about your books, about the one you were in the middle of reading that you'll get the chance to finish once you're home, think about..." Esme's voice faded out and the jolt in my stomach seemed softer somehow.

I opened my eyes and I was in my bedroom. I sighed. Sad and happy now. I sat down my bag and took a breath.

"Mom!"

I ran downstairs, hoping she was home.

"Mom!" She was in the living room, her blue eyes shocked as she and I rushed towards each other.

"Dammit, Isabella Marie, don't you ever do that to me again," she crushed me to her and put her nose to my hair.

"It's not that easy, mom," I spoke into her shoulder. My words were muffled but she heard them, "I don't choose when or where I go."

"I believe you, honey. I promise," we sat down on the couch and I told her everything I could remember. I told her about Emmett and Dot and about Esme. I told her about seeing her and Charlie and being there. I showed her the pictures. We laughed and we cried and when we were done talking she told me that I had been gone about a day and a half. Which means that while I was in the past time moved slower here, or faster there, I suppose. Though based on my own experience time itself could not be confined to humanity's definition.

After Mom and I's talk we both turned in, exhausted, her emotionally and myself both emotionally and physically. I got back upstairs and realized I had dropped what Esme had put in my hand when I left. I picked up the small silver bracelet from my bedroom floor. It was dainty and it was beautiful. The silver links were held together by what appeared to be a lock shaped like a heart. The engraving on the back was a simple E. I smiled and slipped it onto my wrist.

Time is weird. After getting back from the 1900s, it seemed to move a bit faster. Mom and I both settled into our lives. I started school again, much happier at this new, bigger school. I knew no one here and though I wasn't unfriendly I didn't have any true friends. I was okay with that. No new adventures had happened, though from time to time I did feel a pull in my stomach but I found that if I focused enough on now and home and my mom and dad that it faded.

Another birthday passed and then it was Thanksgiving and I was so glad to find out that my Dad was coming to visit. Like any child of divorce, there was a part of me that hoped that my parents would find there way back to each other.

We all sat around the kitchen table, eating Chinese food. We laughed at Renee forgetting to thaw the turkey and at Dad having already ordered Chinese food when he realized. When Mom, very embarrassed, told us of the dilemma, there was a knock at the door. Charlie jumped up and within 5 minutes was back holding two bags filled to the brim with as much greasy to-go food as you could possibly imagine.

I reached over to grab another packet of soy sauce when Charlie first noticed my bracelet.

"That's a real nice, bracelet, Bells. Where'd you get it? There aren't any boys I need to go talk to are there?" His tone was playful but both mom and I blanched. How was I supposed to explain that I traveled through fucking time?

"Well uh...you...its not from a boy. No. No boys, it's, um, its-"

"Bella's friend from the 1900s gave it to her," Renee said.

Charlie choked on his food, and mom beat him on the back for a moment until he could talk again.

"I'm sorry, what?" His brown eyes were wide, and his voice was a bit raspy, a result I'm sure from his mishap with the kung pao chicken.

So Mom and I set into the long-winded explanation of the medication, of the trials, of the adventures. I went and got my book and my camera and to my surprise, Charlie took it all in stride. He didn't like it, but he accepted it. He was open-minded and always had been and at that moment, I loved my dad even more than I thought I could.

The next day, Charlie left and came back with pepper spray that I was instructed to keep on me at all times because "horrible people exist, regardless of the time period" and a photo album. He wanted me to have a place that I could put all of the pictures that I had, a place to write down my experiences.

After Charlie left for Washington, everything was going great. I was able to ward off the jumps and I was normal. Or as normal as I could be. Charlie and Renee weren't meant to be together and I realized that but having parents who were friends was a blessing.

Mom came home one day with a man named Phil, he was nice enough but I was wary of Renee's boyfriends based on my own past experience. But they were good together and Renee was smitten.

I sat down one afternoon with my photo album and the pictures I had printed. I wrote down as much as I could about Dot and Emmett and their little house and their bright smiles. I wrote all about Esme and her compassion and acceptance, about her fall and about Dr. Cullen. I even wrote about how he thought he knew me. It was as I was writing this that I remember him calling me Isabella and that I had never given him my name.

 **A/N: So obviously schedules and me don't mix. But I promise I haven't forgotten about this story. I will finish it. It's just been a very busy time and life and stuff, ya know?**

 **If you have thoughts, or guesses, or comments or whatever, please review!**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **Stay Gold,**

 **Who're**

 **P.s. I am looking for a beta if anyone is interested!**


	9. Entertain Me

**A/N: SM owns twilight and its characters. I just like to play with them from time to time.**

Isn't it strange how relationships change when something unexpected is introduced? That was how my relationships with my parents were. I didn't really expect it because they're my parents. But our relationships had changed. That much was obvious. Since Thanksgiving, since I told Charlie.

My dad and I have always had a good relationship, even if it was a bit stunted at times. But his acceptance had spoken volumes. He didn't pry, that wasn't very Charlie. But he made sure to ask about how life was, how _things_ were going and if I had been anywhere new recently. It wasn't perfect, but it was our own way of making it.

My mom, on the other hand, was a much bigger fan of ignoring it. She wanted me safe and she wanted me home. Not in some other random city, much less some random city in some random time. I couldn't fault her that, so she and I just avoided the elephant in the room, and navigating that was hard. But we made it work. By that I really mean, she went to work, she went on dates, I went to school. If it wasn't school then I was at drivers ed. Or taking photos. Basically, we kept ourselves busy.

I hadn't adventured in a bit. I had felt the pull but if I followed Esme's advice and just thought about home and things in the present, I could push the feeling down. I think it might be better this way.

Phil is to coming over and making dinner tonight. From what my mom has said he's a great cook so what more could I ask?

Renee was flitting around and trying to make the house perfect and pristine for Phil. He had already been here, multiple times, but still. The house was spotless, aside from my backpack beside me at the kitchen table, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Homework sucks, this is a truth universally acknowledged. Sadly, we had finished the romanticism period and Victorian literature and had now moved into modern. Into jazz age and sequins. I saw the appeal, I really did. I would just rather stay in the world of happily ever after and romance. Fitzgerald was cool and I am sure that I would love Gatsby if I could just get into the book. But everytime that I sat down to read it, I simply couldn't focus on the words and I ended up rereading the same few paragraphs for an hour.

Which brings me to now, while I sit at the table, trying desperately to absorb some kind of knowledge from the book in front of me.

I heard a knock and then Renee's loud greeting. Phil was here, which meant out of politeness, not giving up, I put my book away and in turn, moved my backpack to where it belonged. Now the house was perfect.

Among the sounds of pots hitting the stove and grocery bags being rustled through my entrance to the kitchen was masked. Phil was sorting out the groceries he'd gotten and putting his ingredients in order. Renee was still flitting around.

"Renee, you're great and perfect and so amazing, but if you touch this food I will absolutely lose it," the humor in his voice was loud and clear, so I didn't worry. Renee was useless in the kitchen.

"I can cook!" Renee always took offense when someone discounted her many talents. She could make a pretty decent toast and eggs. Her bacon was unmatchable but outside those breakfast foods, my wonderful, beautiful, _perfect and so amazing_ mother should not touch the kitchen.

"Baby, Bella can cook. She's great at it, you are so good at other things, like art and painting and you never fail to pick out the best music for any situation, your talents are wasted on lasagna." I knew I was a good cook, but it's nice to be recognized, with a blush taking up residence on my face I figured that now would be a good time to make my presence known to the kitchen.

"I am a good cook, but Mom makes a mean breakfast buffet, so watch your mouth, mister," I pointed good-naturedly at Phil and made sure that the scowl on my face was playful. Mom's laughter was contagious. Through chuckles, Phil made sure that Renee knew that he very much enjoyed her breakfast.

I liked Phil. He was young, but at her core, so was my mom. They were good together. My mom really did like him and that's all I wanted. She deserved to be happy.

"Bella! Good to see you, kid, mind lending me a hand?" Which I didn't, so together Phil and I put together the lasagna and mom made a small salad. It was nice. The lighting made the room feel warmer, it felt like this was the ending scene to a Hallmark movie. The mother had a good man finally and the daughter was happy and they all settled in for dinner. Aw, cute, roll credits.

But it never could be that easy, could it?

"Dinner was delicious, couldn't have done it without you, Bella," Phil's perfect smile accompanied his praise and I really did appreciate the effort he was making with me. But the pain that jolted through my midsection was a bit more pressing.

"Um, ow," I breathed out as I grabbed my stomach after we had finished dinner.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" My mother's concern was for me and I knew that, but in her darting eyes to and from me and Phil, I knew she was also worried about my habit for disappearing from the present.

"Yeah, I am, I promise, it's probably just a bug or cramps or something," I trailed off. Referring to cramps or periods was a sure fire way to make sure the Phil was uncomfortable enough to not listen too closely.

"Maybe you should go to bed, Bells," she stood and motioned for me to join her, "let's go."

So the two of us stood and made out way down the hall and into my room. I got ready for bed, and my mom broke out the old heating pad. I settled in and Renee sat on the edge of my bed.

"Here, put this on your stomach and hopefully the cramps will be easier to deal with," she said as she laid the pad over me. She was quiet for a moment.

"You know you can tell me anything right?" I knew I could. I was one of those children of divorce that never truly struggled with either of her parents and whose parent's didn't really struggle with each other anymore.

"I know." I tried to smile but the pain in my abdomen probably turned the grin into a grimace.

"I know that I haven't been the best mom, but I'm trying, and I also know that you and your," her voiced dropped as she glanced at my closed bedroom door, " _time-travel_ ," she whispered, "isn't something I know how to go about. They don't exactly cover it in the parenting books. But if you need to talk, I am here." She leaned over me and kissed my forehead.

"I love you, mom, and I think you are the best mom, so don't worry so much." She smiled down at me and got up to leave the room. She glanced back once and mouthed 'love you too' to me before shutting the door.

I turned over and was quickly overcome by sleep.

My dreams were odd, almost like watching misshapen memories. Someone with bright green eyes, a big smile, an old clock, my father's voice, none of it made sense but that didn't make it uncomfortable or odd. What made it odd was how clear these things were. I read an article once that the human brain is incapable of creating a new face, meaning that a lot of the things you see in dreams, people, faces, etc, are all part of your memories, things that you have already seen. But I'd never seen that clock, or met someone with eyes so blue they were almost silver. I was almost sure of it.

I woke up multiple times throughout the night, the pain subsiding for the most part. But I still couldn't get comfortable enough for a full night's sleep. The odd dreams plus the general unease, made for a difficult sleep.

Sadly, even after the pain in my stomach subsided, the trend of not being able to sleep continued for a few nights and by the fourth night of small cat naps, at best, I was exhausted.

Renee was getting ready for a date and I was again trying desperately to read the Great Gatsby. She came into my room, still barefoot and trying to clip a necklace behind her neck. She walked over to me and huffed out a breath of defeat and handed me the necklace. I stood and clasped it around her neck.

"You sure you gonna be okay here, squirt?" She said. Her eyes held their usual carefree attitude but she also seemed to harbor a certain level of concern.

I gave her a soft smile that did little to ease her worry.

"I'm good, mom, I've got enough reading to last me a century. Go have fun!" I urged her to the door.

"Do you really not like Gatsby, Bells?" She picked up the book in question and saw how little progress I had made, "I thought this was the book that everyone actually read and enjoyed in school."

"It's not that I don't like it, I just can't seem to get into it."

"Well, then do what I do," always an interesting start to a story with Renee, "get yourself in the mood! Watch the movie or do some research about the time period. Maybe that'll help you set the time and then you'll breeze through it like any of your other school assignments, yeah?" She smiled her usual Renee smile, and somehow she and I together seemed to manage to get her out the door with both shoes on.

Renee's suggestion wasn't bad. So I set out to find inspiration. After at least an hour of trying to find myself immersed in flapper and gangster culture. I tried to get into the book.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was a good writer. A great one. I wanted to be as invested in this book as I was in others but somehow in my fight to love this book, I was managing to hate it instead. That, coupled with my exhaustion had me fighting to yet again read the same page that I had been working on for what felt like forever.

With drooping eyes I tried, I really tried, to absorb New York in the 20s. But my exhaustion won out.

My eyes closed and my head hit my desk and I settled into what would have been the best sleep I had in a week.

I say would have, because I was soon awoken to someone grabbing my hair.

"Who are you and why are you in my room?"

Shit.

"I don't know where I am currently, but if you would be so kind as to tell me, I'd happily leave and figure out what to do." I was grasping at straws. All I could see in front of me was a nice desk and a window with sheer curtains over it. It was light out. Judging by the light alone I could say that it was either early morning or late afternoon.

"You. Are. In. My. Bedroom."

"Yes, I had gathered that much, thank you," I said as I turned my head to see who was behind me.

My eyes caught sight of quite possibly one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen.

"Do you want the truth?" I said, daring her to say yes, with my eyes.

"I think I deserve that, at the very least, intruder." Her cool eyes looked to be made of steel.

"My name is Bella Swan, I'm 16 and have this super neat-o ability to travel through time," the sarcasm was definitely rude but I couldn't manage to extract it from my voice, "If you let me explain, I swear to you that I will but you have to promise me that you'll actually hear me out and not just write me off as crazy," I hoped that in the end, she either let me talk or threw me out. I just would really prefer staying here and maybe not having to try and hunt down Esme or Emmett in whatever time this is so that I actually had a place to stay.

With narrowed eyes, she released my hair and backed off slightly. She leaned against the wardrobe in the corner of this monstrosity of a room and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Alright then, Bella Swan. I'm Rosalie Hale, your current audience, and I will listen. I want you to know that had I not just witnessed you materialize out of nothing at my desk I wouldn't be so willing. But alas, you did and so I am. So," she settled on to the corner of her bed and motioned with her hands for me to talk, "tell me the story of how you just appeared in my room."

 **A/N: So I know this is a bit shorter than my last few chapters but the next one is longer, think of this one as set up, I guess.**

 **I love getting comments, questions, love, etc. Makes it feel less like I'm screaming into the void.**

 **Lots of love, y'all.**

 **Stay Gold,**

 **Who're**


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